


Insanity: From One Heartbeat To The Last

by angelffxmaniac



Category: Faberry - Fandom, Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 07:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelffxmaniac/pseuds/angelffxmaniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first few kisses that make her lose her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insanity: From One Heartbeat To The Last

It’s the first few kisses that make her lose her mind.

Words are drawn upon lips that she’s waited - hoped, prayed - to taste since she was a teenager and she feels like she’s falling.

It’s turned into habit of hers, anyway, and this - the two of them in a dark room - is no exception.

Rachel talks, and Quinn falls.

Rachel sings, and Quinn falls.

Rachel moans… And Quinn falls.

There are words exchanged into the silence, words meant to be husked by lovers, but she and Rachel are not - does Rachel even love her, in the way that Quinn loves her? - yet the words keep tumbling off their mouths, urgent and full of a desire that can’t be sated.

Clothes disappear from their bodies soon later. Discarded somewhere on the floor, and it’s a good thing. They felt like they were burning her skin, Quinn thinks, as well as obstructing her ability to touch Rachel.

When everything is shed, when all thats left between them is just the air they breathe, humid, and wet, and heavy with something that Quinn will never be able to identify, but then again, she doesn’t care to, she almost gasps.

Rachel is… Beautiful.

She never had any doubts, but it’s still a small miracle that she gets to see the body that she’s imagined too many times - restless nights spent under the sheets, pleading for forgiveness and finding release - and she can’t help the small grin that appears on her lips.

Rachel lies on the bed, moving back, until her head rests on the pillows, and then she motions Quinn to join her.

There’s barely any light in the room, and there are even less sounds, and everything about this seems a thousand times more alluring than it should be - and proper, which it definitely is not.

Quinn shakes her head - this is really no time to think and ask moral questions - and moves along Rachel’s body with a purpose. 

Her hands trace the curves of the body lying underneath her, trying to carve words like “mine” on thighs that - Quinn knows - will never be hers, but the the thin trace of sweat washes them away, like letters written in the sand.

Rachel is impatient. She moves and wrestles and pleads, but Quinn’s fingers follow a mind of their own.

“I want to cherish,” she thinks, because - when will she get another chance?

Yet Rachel refuses. A hand wraps around her wrist - it’s not tight, but the unspoken command still manages to hurt Quinn a little - and guides it between tan thighs.

Quinn groans. 

It’s rather unladylike like, she knows, but Rachel is right there - wet, willing, wanting.

Ladylike manners be damned.

This is definitely not the first time, but this is a line. Crossing it means nothing will ever be the same.

In a sense, it’s the first time Quinn always craved.

Rachel is biting her lower lip, as she watches Quinn’s fingers move on her clit, and the sight is breathtaking; teeth biting a perfect lip, hair all over the pillow, a heaving chest….

“Are you sure?”

The question, simply phrased, means so much more, Quinn knows, but she hopes that Rachel understands.

This will change everything.

She gets a breathless please as a response.

Rachel talks…. And Quinn falls.

At first it’s just one finger. Just the tip. Experimenting, trying, savoring. 

But Rachel thrashes against the bed and Quinn knows its not enough.

A second finger joins the first and this could very well be the paradise her parents always speaked of.

Being inside the one you love; is there really any greater happiness?

She sets a pace, based entirely on the way Rachel’s body reacts. She pays attention to sounds and movements, and she feels like a predator.

It doesn’t take long - not with how much they’ve been worked up - for the end to come, for Rachel, and it’s magnificent, the way her body arches, and that scream that almost falls from Rachel’s lips.

Almost, but not quite, and if this isn’t an apt metaphor for their relationship in every step of the way, she doesn’t know what is.

Aft all, metaphors are important.

Rachel closes her eyes and smiles, and Quinn refuses to resist the urge to do the same. She lies right next to the brunette, hands wrapping immediately around a petite waist and she closes her eyes too.

She doesn’t want to think what will happen when they both open their eyes again.


End file.
